The Hound Will Always Find his Bird
by Tigereyes45
Summary: Sandor arrives at Winterfell and wishes to see the Lady Stark. Of course the guards try to prevent him but they are unable to do anything but watch as he corners the little bird he once tried to save. She remembers him, and is not afraid. Or Hunting dogs often find their prey. The birds their masters seek out, but Sandor no longer has a master. A fact Sansa aims to remedy.


**_Hello everyone who chooses to read this story. This will be the first part of a series. The second part will be multi-chapter and under the name of Sandor and his little bird. This is my very first game of thrones story so any constructive criticism is appreciated._**

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"You've grown little bird." He says with disgust underlining his tone. "You're just as evil and conniving as the other lords and ladies now." He corners her, placing one arm beside the right of her head, against the wall while using his body to block her left. "So you've finally learn how the world works for your kind, eh?" The question was undoubtedly rhetorical. She was sure of that. Even if she was just presuming he knew what rhetorical means.

"I am Lady Stark of Winterfell now, Ser Clegane." Sansa announces as if he did not already know.

"I already told you once little bird. I am no ser."

"No I suppose you are not. However you are more of a ser then some of the supposed ones here with us right now." Sansa states casting an eye out towards the few guards who had not been able to keep the hound back from her being.

He looks back at them and laughs. None of them make a move to force him away from the the lady. In fact the youngest of the four was far too busy quaking in his suit to try anything at all. Yet tall Sansa stands, unwavering in her gaze, and unshaken in her confidence. For once the little bird shows no fear of the great, scarred hound.

"Hear that boys?" He asks knowing full well they could hear every word that was shared. He carefully takes a lock of her hair within his right hand. He pays with it between his fingers for but a moment before he chooses to instead lean in closer to the mighty Lady of Winterfell. His lips so close to her ear. He could smell the scent her hair carries. Akin to what it use to smell of, but wholly different as well. "You should know by now little bird, no other man could keep me from you if I do not wish to let them do so."

Sansa sighs. "I know Hound." Her tone changes. From sounding monotonous to that of a leader. "Leave, now." She orders her guards. The youngest takes off as the three more seasoned warriors hesitate. "I will be fine. He will not hurt me." She declares, her eyes catching Sandor's.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes. I am."

He could not lie the thought of being alone with her was tempting. Even more so when she was now looking at him without a slight hint of fear. Unlike how it use to be. "Do I not scare you anymore Little Bird?"

"Not at all." She says sounding sure of herself. After everything she had been through, Sandor was not surprise. He had heard tale of the nightmare of a life she was living when he was travelling back north with Jon and the whining boy known as Gendry. He could have throttle the little cunt who had held her captive within her own home for so long, but he could also not shake the feeling of pride in his chest at hearing how she had taken care of the man. Fed to the dogs. A smile graces his lips at the thought. He thinks that perhaps she always had a way with dogs. "You won't hurt me." She declares again, and gods if it did not send a feeling to his gut he did not know if anything ever would.

"Aye, you are right. I won't." The Hound confirms. He gives his attention back to the guards just to watch them scurry away, feeling as if they had done their duty sufficiently enough. "But will the little bird sing for me?" He asks once the door behind them closes.

"I told you once Hound that I know no songs any longer. Now I will tell you the truth. I do not sing anymore. For why would I sing when all the songs are lies. Telling of only joys and troubles of young maidens. I no longer am a maiden. I no longer sing the praises of heroes."

That actually causes him to frown. The little bird was different indeed. Far more so then he had thought her to be. Why was she not sending him away then, for no other lady would ever allow him this close to her, not alone. Was it out of fear of what he might do to her if she tried, or does she simply not care anymore?

"I am no hero."

"No, you are. A hero who tried to save a little girl from a very dangerous garden. One who went beyond the wall to try and prevent our destruction. You are a hero indeed Sandor." Hearing her say his name causes a chill to go down his spine.

"Would you send me away my lady?" He would go if that is what she truly wanted. She should just say so if it was.

"No." He removes his arms from near her. Surprise showing on his face.

"You are not nearly as terrifying as you think you are. Not anymore ser." Sansa uses the moment as a means to break away from him. She strides across the room and towards the table by her bed. There rests a tea set, but the flask was foreign compared to them. "Would you care to join me for a drink?" Sansa asks politely. "We have much catching up to do, and I would rather do it now before making my offer."

He raises his eyebrow. "Offer?" She gestures to the seat across from her. He takes the seat. Falling down into the chair without any grace.

"What is that stuff?" He asks as she pours.

"A strong drink made for the men of the north. I thought it would suit your taste better than any tea."

"Aye." He agrees before taking a sip.

She watches him carefully as she holds her own cup close to her body. "Now, I want to speak of you becoming my sworn shield." She states without any hesitation. Clearly she had been thinking about this before now.

A laugh is released from Sandor's mouth. "The little bird hopes to keep her dog near?" He teases.

"For my safety, and possibly more." A practice smile plays on her features, and Sandor knows he would not mind being a dog once more. Not for his little bird.


End file.
